Desperate Times
by Alysmiller
Summary: Ste leaves the 70's disco party and picks up a stripper on the way home who reminds him of a certain someone.


**So I've decided to do a little one shot of Ste sleeping with the Brendan look-a-like stripper. I started writing this a while back when this guy was meant to appear but then instead we got Ste sleeping with Sinead and the stripper scenes were cut. I lost interest in writing this after that because I didn't see much point in uploading it seeing as it didn't happen. But I thought I would bring myself to finish it. **

Ste's had a few drinks. Well, he'd count it as a few in comparison to the load he's been drinking lately. He can't even taste the bitterness of beer on his tongue anymore. It just tastes of nothing and he's continuing to down the stuff like water.

He's had a snog with George and it was nice enough. The youngster has soft lips but he always holds back. There isn't much to him, no muscle, no weight, no power, nothing to grab. He's delicate and petite and he isn't what Ste wants. Not tonight. In all fairness, he tried to lure the boy back into his bed but he'd turned him down and Ste took it on the chin. He wasn't going to force him into anything.

What the Mancunian wants is to get fucked, so fucked that he wakes up with a hangover and all of his sexual frustrations put to sleep. He wants to wake up feeling satisfied.

Ste understands why John Paul doesn't want to sleep with him, he really does. He told him that they didn't have to do anything and that he'd wait. But with everything being thrown back in his face, he isn't sure what to do. Ste has always blamed partly himself for not doing anything straight away when he found out what Seamus had done to Brendan because look at where it's gotten him. Brendan isn't here anymore. If he'd gone to the police straight away, Seamus would have been arrested before he could have gone to the club to taunt Brendan further. Cheryl wouldn't have reached him.

So as a result, Ste tried to handle this, _wanted_ to handle this. He cares about John Paul, more so now that he knows of his situation and who the culprit is and all he wanted to do was to not make the same mistake. But it got thrown in his face, so now Ste is getting pissed off his face.

He's taken Sinead home, had to after he learnt that she'd thrown up in the toilets but now Ste is just wondering the streets of the village, beer in hand, not yet wanting to go home. He really hasn't got a lot to go home for. No Brendan, no kids, no Amy, no mum and now no dad.

After a while contemplating, Ste makes the choice to walk into town. It's a long walk and he stumbles most of the way there but in his intoxicated state it feels like he got there in three seconds. He has no idea what he's going to do. Probably wake up in a ditch or on a bench or in a strangers bed. There's a few people about, most of them off of their faces and they shout across the street to Ste, tell him to have a _fantabulousness_ night and they hold up a bottle to him. He smiles and shouts the same in return.

Cheap neon lights catch Ste's attention. _The Million Dollar. _Judging by the sign it's a strip club. A gay strip club and there's nothing more appealing to Ste right now than seeing some hot guys in their underwear so he trips on through the door and feels his way along the wall. The hallway is dark with flashing lights and it's disorientating but towards the end it opens up into a room with pumping music and a load of girls and guys sitting around tables near the main stage, a massive bar stretching along the right hand side.

Most of the ladies are out on a hen night and they're stuffing pound notes into the pants of one of the dancers. He's hot no doubt about it. Great body but not really Ste's type. The man's chest is waxed and so are his legs. There's no hair anywhere, no ruggedness. He's too pretty.

The drunkard takes a seat near the back and is served almost instantly. He asks for another beer and he watches intently as more men swing around poles and grind against each other and rub their bodies against men and women in the audience. It's an arousing site and after beer upon beer it only turns him on more. Time passes. How long, Ste isn't sure but four or five guys have had their performances and another is about to come out. The stage is dark and he can see the figure walk on and take his place and as soon as the spotlight flicks on, Ste's heart nearly drops into his stomach. Even though he's wasted, he can see this guy clearly and he has to rub his eyes at first to make sure he isn't dreaming.

There's a man on stage, different to the others. He has a bit of hair on him, on his belly and around his chest but that isn't what draws Ste's attention. It's the moustache. The handle bar moustache, brown and prominent and Ste's stomach leaps. He knows it isn't Brendan but this man is sort of similar. He's kind of good looking, has a nice body and he's definitely older. There's so many differences but the tache is everything, the tache _is_ Brendan and Ste decides there and then that he wants to get fucked by this guy. Sure he's dressed like a typical stripper. Black pants with a couple of chains around him and a really gross hat but Ste knows he wants it and he wants it now. He wouldn't make a habit out of sleeping with strippers but he would for Brendan. Not for anyone else, despite how twisted that analogy is. If he saw a stripper that looked like Doug for example, he wouldn't go there despite loving his husband.

This stranger swings around a pole a few times and then hops off the stage. He makes his way towards a table and then suddenly changes direction, teases the audience and the next minute there's a spotlight being directed on Ste. It blinds him and he has to hold his hand up to the light but then he sees the man strolling towards him and when he reaches his table, the light is turned off.

'Lap dance, Sir?'

The Mancunian's chest deflates a little. Hearing this mans voice lets him down a little. He isn't Irish, nor does he have a voice that makes him melt. He sounds nice and his voice matches his face but he doesn't sound the way Ste wanted him too.

'Um...sure.'

The man straddles him and rubs their groins together, one hand at the back of Ste's neck, the other gripping the chair tight. The younger man inhales and he smells gorgeous. Not of Brendan but gorgeous all the same and he has to put his hands on the guy, touch him and he does, runs his hands up his hairy thighs and rests them on his hips.

Their foreheads touch together, breaths mixing and they're inhaling each other's oxygen and Ste can hear women screaming around him and making noises of arousal as they gaze upon the site of two men practically dry humping.

'You want to meet me around the back when I'm done?'

The stranger says in Ste's ear, wrapping both arms around his neck as he continues to grind their bodies together.

'Who said I wanted any of that?'

'You can say no. But you're probably the hottest guy in this room seeing as everyone else is either over 50 or a woman. I couldn't let the opportunity of getting my hands on a pretty little thing like you slip through my fingers. Your boner is telling me everything I need to know. It'll just be a bit of fun but I guess if you're not interested.'

He's about to climb off of Ste's lap and for a moment Ste panics, ends up hooking a couple of fingers through the chains over the strangers chest and pulling him back. Ste's cock is rock solid in his trousers and by the looks of it this stripper is sporting a semi as well.

'Wait. I'm interested. Very interested.'

Ste knows he probably looks desperate but the man doesn't seem to care. He slides a strap of leather around Ste's neck and draws him in again, turns so his back is facing him and Ste admires the muscles of this man, places a few subtle kisses along his oiled skin to seal the deal and the stranger eyes him differently to how he'd look at any other customer.

'So what's your name?'

'Umm, Steven. Or Ste. Whichever.'

A strange part of Ste wants this man to call him Steven. He wants to be called that for tonight.

'Ste. That's cute. I'm Sammy.'

Sammy. _Sammy_. It's more feminine than the name Brendan but Ste doesn't care. It's just a name and he doesn't plan on getting married to this guy. He probably won't even remember in the morning.

After a few more minutes of grinding, in which Ste's hard on only grows and his sexual frustration blows through the roof, Sammy climbs off of his lap, takes off his hat and places it on Ste's head. Probably a way of ensuring that Ste turns up later on.

He watches as Sammy walks back stage, eyes up his ass and licks his lips because it's nice and Ste can't wait to grab it and slap it when he's getting fucked. Brendan always loved it.

He finishes his beer and makes his way outside, the breeze cooling his warm skin. He has to adjust his trousers to make sure people don't stare, even though there's barely anyone around but he wants to feel comfortable while he walks. Sammy strolls around the corner a split second later, dressed relatively normal. He has jeans on, tight jeans at that which cling to his legs and a V-neck shirt that exposes his chest and it reminds the Mancunian straight away of Brendan because he used to always dress like that when he wasn't working at the club. It brings back so many feelings, so many heart dropping emotions and for a second, Ste doesn't know if he can do this. He's tried so hard to distract himself from losing the love of his life, he got back with Doug for god sake, avoided talking about the Irishman at all costs because it was all too painful to remember. The drugs and the alcohol helped with the pain but now he feels like he's reliving it just looking at Sammy. But he needs to compensate somehow and it seems like this is the closest he'll ever get.

'Hey.'

Ste says, taking a deep breath and shoving his hands in his pockets.

'Alright.'

'I don't make a habbit out of this you know? Sleeping with strippers and that.'

Ste doesn't know why but he feels the needs to clarify that, probably because he doesn't want to seem like a sleaze who gets off on picking up blokes at random clubs, especially those who take their clothes off for a living. It's then that he notices how much he's slurring and how wobbly he is on his feet.

'I don't make a habit out of fucking my customers either.'

Ste huffs moodily and leans back against the wall to steady himself. He feels like he's going to fall over and his head is spinning, he can see two of everything and he's sure he's about to vomit his organs.

'Be right back.'

Sammy says and he makes his way back into the club. Ste laughs to himself and starts to wonder off down the street, holding onto everything as he goes for some sort of leverage. Nobody wants to go home and fuck someone who's smashed off their face. The sex will be shit so really, Ste can't blame this Sammy guy for bailing.

'Oi. Where you going?'

The older man catches up and Ste turns, a bitter smile on his face.

'Thought you were ditching me?'

'No. I got you this.'

He holds up a pint of water and a bowl of peanuts and Ste snatches them both out of his hands, downs the water as quickly as possible and stuffs the peanuts into his mouth because he needs some clarity, needs to be able to see.

'Peanuts are the best thing I could get you. We didn't have any other food.'

'Thanks. Oh my god.'

Ste hasn't eaten for hours and as soon as he puts food in his mouth, he realises how hungry he really is.

'You must have been starving.'

Sammy says as he takes the empty bowl off Ste and places it on the floor. He starts to tidy the younger man up, does up his buttons and straightens out his sleeves and gives him his jacket because it's a little cold tonight.

'Thanks for keeping my hat safe.'

The older gent smiles and removes it from Ste's head and tucks it under his arm. Ste just smirks as he becomes a little less dizzy and he starts to walk in the direction of his house, the stranger simply following behind.

There's a silence, one that Ste indulges in because for the entire night he's been surrounded by drunk people, screaming and shouting, music that's pumped so loud that his bones vibrated in his body and it's nice to just be able to hear his own footsteps and his own breathing, hear the breeze blow through the trees.

Ste is still a little dizzy and he trips up the steps as he heads towards the house. But Sammy is there to stop him from falling flat on his face. He catches the younger man around the waist and helps him to his feet, chuckles lightly as Ste turns and pulls an embarrassed expression. They both share the laughter and Ste blushes, tries to hide his face for a second but then snorts in that way that he does and after a minute or so they're both stood half way up the steps, smiles fading and eyes drifting down to lips.

Sammy takes a step up so he's on the same level and he's just that little bit taller than Ste is. He pushes him back towards the wall and slides a hand around to the back of Ste's shaved head and leans in to kiss him. The younger man lets him, can't help but let out a strangled groan as Sammy's moustache rubs against his top lip because it's been a long time since he's felt anything like it. Ste is hit with nostalgia, his heart dropping into his stomach. Sammy kisses well and Ste let's it continue, opens his mouth wider and let's it be invaded by the older mans tongue, let's the passion and lust take over and Sammy presses his groin against the Mancunian's, rubs ever so slightly and builds up a delicious friction that has them both shaking and gasping for breath.

It feels strange, being intimate outside. Ste and Doug never had the excitement of being dirty in public. Doug was always too abiding, followed the rules. But with Brendan there was always that rebellion, the adrenaline rush of doing something filthy where potentially anyone could see.

'Wait.'

Ste pushes against Sammy's chest, tears his lips away with regret. He doesn't want to fuck out here. He needs comfort, wants to lie down and so he isn't at risk of falling over from his intoxication.

'Not here. Come on.'

He takes Sammy's hand and leads him up the stairs, fumbles with his keys in his pocket and has to try and steady his hand as he unlocks the door. It's warm inside, quiet, but Ste doesn't particularly pay that much attention. Instead he draws Sammy back in and kisses him again, doesn't waste any time. They make their way up the stairs, trying not to disconnect at the mouth and soon enough they're fumbling with each other's clothes in Ste's bedroom, grabbing and pulling and unbuttoning here and there until eventually they pull apart and undress each other. The older man seems to like and admire Ste's skinny and scrawny body, can't keep his eyes off him and Ste is the same. This guy is pale and he has hair and a bit of muscle and he's broad but he doesn't have the tattoo's or the same sort of tone. But he's still sexy, just less so than Brendan.

Both men climb onto the bed and continue to kiss, Ste occasionally taking Sammy's lip inbetween his teeth and tugging to drive him wild. He likes this, likes this intimacy and the realism of it. He likes being kissed and touched and feeling the closeness of another human. Previous one night stands have simply been in it for the sex, would turn their heads away if Ste tried to kiss them or they'd just shove their tongue in his mouth as if that'd be enough to satisfy him. They'd never make the effort to make him feel good, stimulate nerves and locate those turn on areas but Sammy is different. He's taking his time, putting Ste's pleasure before his own and that's something that he and Brendan have in common.

Ste also hates this. He hates how he's got this expectation and every little thing that Sammy is doing, he's comparing to Brendan. He misses the Irishman, no doubt about it and he can't deny that he's still madly in love with him. He always will be. But surely this will only be more painful in the morning? Ste realising that he slept with a stranger all because of that fucking moustache.

'You got lube yeah?'

Sammy asks breathlessly as he climbs off the boy and begins to search the floor for his trousers.

'Yeah.'

Ste routes around in the drawers of his bedside cabinet and pulls out a fresh bottle. He bought it months ago but he hasn't had anyone to use it with. His last bottle got used purely on himself during masturbation.

'I don't have a condom though.'

As the younger man finishes his sentence, Sammy pulls a condom out of his wallet and holds it between his index and middle finger, a smirk on his face.

'It's almost like you planned this.'

Ste says sarcastically with a smile. He's lying there, on the bed, naked but he feels strangely comfortable being naked. Probably the alcohol consumption but quite often, during intimacy with Doug and Noah a long while back, if he sat there naked he'd feel self-conscious, slightly uncomfortable and he'd have to cover himself up any way possible.

'When I see something I want, I always try to get it.'

'So you do just want me for sex?'

'It's what you want as well isn't it?'

The room falls silent for a moment and Ste begins to contemplate on whether he should go through with this. He's being desperate, sleeping with a man with a moustache to feel close to his now distant lover and it's as he thought earlier. He might only end up hurting in the morning. He's torn between his head and his heart. His head knows he shouldn't do this but it's fuzzy with how drunk he is. His heart wants this man, just for the night so he can let go of everything, all of this anger and frustration and hurt and misery and rejection.

'You gunna fuck me or what?'

Ste will accept the hurt tomorrow when he wakes because it never goes. There are times when he hardly feels it, when he's drunk or high or when he's working his ass off. There are other times when he feels the absence a lot more. Like when he goes into Price Slice and sees the seedless jam, or when he dreams of the Irishman, or when he looks up at the club. It might have a different name but it will always be the place where he discovered himself and found his love for Brendan, where he was happy most of the time. But it's also the place where it all ended.

'Are you sure you want to do this?'

Sammy asks. He's still stood in the middle of the room, dick hard and body pale. He is a decent size, 7 maybe 8 inches. He has pubic hair which is nice as well because Ste hates it when a guy shaves everything downstairs. Doug tried it once and Ste felt so wrong touching him because it felt like he was touching a child.

'I'm sure. Come here.'

Ste shifts to the end of the bed and welcomes the older man as he reaches the bed side, runs his hands up and down his hairy legs as he kisses the bottom of Sammy's stomach and then he slowly makes his way lower, licks lightly down the shaft of his cock and takes the tip into his mouth. He sucks at the foreskin, tongues it, plays and teases and he gets off on the low moans that escape Sammy's mouth. It's satisfying, being able to pleasure someone.

The older man scores his fingers along Ste's scalp, strokes the tips of his fingers along the small hairs at the back of his neck. He tries to get more of his dick into Ste's mouth, is a little greedy or maybe he's desperate but nevertheless, Ste let's him, let's his mouth get fucked. He takes it all in his mouth and holds it, controls his gag reflex yet continues to use his tongue on the underside and Sammy curses, is evidentially impressed with the younger man's blowjob skills.

'On your front.'

The boy does as he's told, hasn't really been giving the older man oral sex for a long period of time but maybe Sammy is as eager to be inside of Ste as much as Ste is ready to take it.

'Lift your hips.'

Again, Ste does as he's told and lifts his hips but keeps his chest firmly on the mattress. He feels more open this way, more comfortable, ready to take it. But he doesn't get fucked straight away. He feels a hot tongue begin to eat at him, start an onslaught upon his entrance and he has to suck in a breath and let it out into the duvet, his breath heating the material. It's been ages since he's been rimmed and Ste had almost forgotten how amazing it feels. He can't come to terms with the sensations at first, is tearing away at the sheets and crying out, is backing against that wet tongue, wanting it inside of him and Sammy makes it happen. He slips a finger inside Ste's hole to stretch him, continues to lick relentlessly and grunt at the taste of the boy. He can't get enough.

'You like getting tongue fucked don't you?'

Ste's only response is to back up again onto that finger and whimper as it stimulates those nerves that haven't been touched in such a long while. He fucks himself with Sammy's instrument, chokes on a breath as the man sucks on his balls and continues to tongue around his ring. Pleasure is always at it's height when it's not been experienced for a while. Ste remembers Dublin, remembers how he got fucked for the first time in over a year. With Doug, Ste was always the one on top and he tried to convince the American that he liked fucking as well as being fucked. That was so far from the truth.

'Just fuck me now. Fuck me. Please.'

He's desperate to be filled, desperate to have his prostate pummelled by that solid cock and be stretched wide and fucked rapidly. He wants to wake up hurting. Not just mentally and emotionally, but physically as well. Ste might still be smashed off his face but he knows what he wants, knows how he wants to feel during all of this. No questions are asked. Sammy just rolls on the condom, squirts lube onto himself and massages it into Ste's tight entrance and then he slips inside of him, nice and slow so he doesn't cause the younger man any pain. He's taking care, being gentle, something that Ste has warmed to a lot.

'Be rough yeah?'

Ste fears he might not remember this experience in the morning, a hangover will more than likely make him forget. He wants the pain and the scracthes and the bruises to remind him, remind him of the kissing and the rimming and the intensity and the lust.

'You don't ask for a lot do you?'

Sammy chuckles, leans down to plaster his chest against Ste's back and rests his arms either side of the younger mans head. He slides all the way in and it burns but Ste doesn't even wince, instead he digs his nails into Sammy's wrists, hooks them into his skin and he lets out a silent, steady breath to try and ease the sting. Sammy doesn't give him a chance to control the pain and Ste likes that, likes that he's being given what he wants for a change. Doug could never do rough.

'Jesus you're so tight.'

Sammy gasps as he fucks into Ste a little harder. His cock is painfully constricted by Ste's hole, all tense and unyielding.

'Relax for me a little.'

It's bordering on being uncomfortable. As soon as the sting fades and the pleasure kicks in, Ste finds the energy to let himself be taken by it, let's the tension drain out of his body and Sammy sighs as the unbearable tightness eases.

'It's been a while.'

He doesn't know why but he feels the need to justify the initial discomfort. He's not ashamed by it, but he needs this man to know the reason why he's so tense.

'I can tell.'

Ste let's his head drop into the pillow, his head feeling fuzzy and his stomach churning a little but his skin is buzzing, hips are bucking as Sammy fucks against that perfect little stop inside of him, deviously hidden. He feels sick in both a good and bad way, has a headache but he's sure that'll have disappeared by the end. The older man claws at Ste's hips, is fulfilling his wish by tearing him limb from limb and digging his nails into his skin like hooks. Ste needs the pain, needs to come to his senses and realise what's happening. He wants to remember the pleasure, wants to remember it all.

He has no form of connection to this guy. He might look like Brendan but he isn't and never well be him. Ste's love for Brendan was off the scale. Scientist sould break everything down into chemicals but they'd never be able to explain a love like theirs. Ste thinks he can fall in love quickly. But that isn't entirely true and he knows it. He might feel things, feel emotions that are undoubtedly more than friendship but love, _true_ love, he's only ever felt that once. What Ste likes more than anything is to _be_ loved, for someone to tell them that they love him and he falls for it all so easily. He fell for it with Noah, Doug, now John Paul and he loves them, he does, he loves being loved but true love lingers forever, even when that person is no longer here and Ste dropped everyone in favour of Brendan. That's the way it always was, the way it always will be if he ever is to return.

Ste feels Sammy score his nails across his scalp and his head is yanked back viciously. The Mancunian smiles, he likes it, likes how he's being used as leverage to get fucked nice and hard and his body feels like it's on fire. He's trembling, his elbows almost giving out beneath him but Sammy keeps him up, not only by the clump of hair he holds but by his other arm that's wrapped firmly around his torso. Sammy chews on his ear lobe, thrusts into him as deep as he possibly can and pounds Ste's prostate relentlessly and soon enough, the boy is screaming and tugging at his own dick, shooting ropes of white all over his dark blue bed sheets.

Sammy grunts, is evidently overcome by his orgasm merely seconds later because he lets go of Ste's hair, pushes him back into the mattress and again plasters his chest to the younger man's back, rests his forehead against Ste's shoulder blades and his hip movements come to a halt. He breathes through it all, barely makes a single sound and that's completely different to Brendan. He would roar, would curse and throw his head back or chew on Ste's flesh or rip the bed sheets apart from the intensity. Ste almost feels let down by how quiet he is.

He lies there, Sammy against his back and he stares out of the window of his bedroom even though the room is spinning. He can't really breathe with the older man on top of him and he has to sort of dig his elbow into Sammy's ribs as he attempts to roll onto his back.

They both lie there then. Not touching, although Ste is sure that if he wasn't being so blunt and silent then Sammy would have bought him into his chest and stroked his hair until he fell asleep. Ste doesn't wasn't that. He's been fucked now, he's gotten what he wants and even though there are many similarities between Sammy and Brendan, the differences are so prominent and Ste notices them, criticises Sammy for them. That's the main reason he doesn't want to cuddle up to this man because he _isn't_ Brendan. He never will be Brendan. The reality has hit him now and all he does is turn back onto his side, facing away from the other man and he let's sleep take him, drifts unconscious all too quickly.

* * *

><p>Ste wakes up with a pounding headache. He hasn't even opened his eyes yet but they're aching inside of his head and as he slowly lifts his lids, the light burns and he has to scrunch his eyes closed again. His brain feels like it's pulsing in his skull and his stomach is churning and his mouth is dry and that's the only motivation he has to get out of bed. He needs a drink and food in his stomach even though he feels like he might vomit it back up.<p>

Ste only notices the light snoring next to him when he manages to sit up straight. He's surprised that he heard it over the banging in his head.

Sammy lies there, duvet down by his waist, his torso on full display and this is the only opportunity Ste has had to look at him with relatively sober eyes. He's pale, hairy, but there's no tattoos, not as much muscle and tone and Ste just grunts as he makes his way to the bathroom and cleans his teeth to rid of the taste of stale alcohol.

His eyes are bloodshot and heavy and there's bags underneath which make him look as if he has been punched in the face. He can't be bothered to wash but he stinks and he regretfully takes a shower, the water hammering against his head like a drum. He's in and out as quick as he can be and as he goes back into his room, he finds that Sammy is still asleep. Ste rolls his eyes and gets changed, decides to make a coffee for himself to wake up a little bit, contemplates on making something to eat but he doesn't think his stomach can handle it right now, maybe a little later.

Sammy enters the kitchen about 10 minutes later, wearing absolutely nothing and it's a little much for Ste to handle this early in the morning.

'Woah! Go put some clothes on.'

'Why?'

The older man questions. His voice is a little croaky but he doesn't look half as bad as Ste does.

'Because other people live here too. I'm sure you don't want them seeing your junk.'

'Ste. I'm a stripper.'

'Well...at least repect them.'

Sammy sighs and shakes his head as he makes his way back into the bedroom to get changed and to be courteous, Ste makes him a coffee, pushes it towards him as he makes his way back into the kitchen.

'Um...I don't drink coffee. Thanks anyway.'

The older man flips his hat about in his hands, rocks back on forth a little, thinking of what to say that could decrease the tension but he says nothing and neither does Ste, he just leans against the counter sipping on his coffee and forcing himself to swallow it.

'I'm going to go.'

'Yeah. Good idea.'

Instead of heading towards the door, Sammy closes in on Ste, rests his hat on the counter momentarily and takes the coffee out of the younger man's hand.

'What are you doing?'

Ste asks, putting a hand up to stop him from getting closer.

'I know you're not interested in anything like _that_. But even when you're hungover you still look gorgeous. I want a kiss. Just one.'

Sammy raises his eyebrows, challenges Ste to refuse and Ste almost does, almost tells him to go fuck himself. He got to shag him. But he lowers his hand and let's the older man enter his proximity, keeps both arms firmly by his side, his fists clenched and as soon as their lips lock Ste's stomach flips at the feel of that tache against his lip, large hands either side of his face, cupping it.

Ste loses himself for a second, opens his mouth a little wider and unintentionally deepens the kiss, Sammy's groan being the only thing that snaps Ste back to Earth and makes him realise what he's doing and he tears his lips away, licks along them and drops his head between his shoulders. He can't bring himself to look up at the older man because he'll be faced again with the disappointment that the man who's staring at him isn't Brendan.

'I'll see you later.'

Sammy says as he drops his hands from Ste's face and makes his way to the door.

'Probably not.'

It's so quiet that Ste barely hears himself say it but Sammy quietly chuckles, evidently heard him and he's bitter because he slams the door louder than necessary. The younger man shakes his head and reaches back to scratch his back, flinches at the shooting pain from a raised bruise on his shoulder that Sammy chewed into him last night.

That man won't be on Ste's mind for long. He'll be on his skin longer.


End file.
